When I Call You Daddy
by Historyexplorer12
Summary: Sammy starts to call Dean "Dada" at a very young age. Dean allows this, on one condition. NOT Wincest! Weechester/teenchester fic, possible OOC characters? Rated T to be safe! Series of one-shots Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters! Warnings: language in later chapters, first Supernatural fic
1. First Time

**AN: Hi! I'm not new to Supernatural as a TV show, but this is my first story in this fandom! I hope it's not too bad or off and that anyone who reads this enjoys it!**

From the very beginning, Sam and Dean had had a nearly unexplainable bond. It wasn't just that they were brothers; they were so much more than that. They were support for one another. Dean was often Sam's only support for anything he did. He was Sam's mother, and father most of the time too. Sam was the one Dean was able to open up to, even though he didn't do it that often.

So it should be no surprise that one night, after being up at all hours with a nearly one-year-old Sammy who was teething at the time, Dean did not react when Sam turned his head on his shoulder with his tiny thumb in his mouth and his eyelids drooping and mumbled, "Dada," as he fell asleep.

Dean may not have reacted but he did think it was a fluke, so he just whispered, "G'night, Sammy," to the now sleeping baby as he gently put him in the borrowed crib the motel's owner had dug up from her basement after seeing how tiny and cute Sammy was. Usually Dean just slept with Sammy beside him in one of the two beds in a room, but he had begrugingly watched their father accept the crib hesitantly. Dean had made sure the crib was just inches from his bed though.

He gave no more thought to the incident that night. Until it happened again weeks later as he was feeding Sammy his breakfast of a cut up banana or two. With Sammy sitting in his lap as he sat in a chair at the small table in their current motel room, Dean would carefully cut a slice of banana from the fruit that lay on the dinged-up table with a plastic knife, which was all they could afford in the way of silverware; It was plastic utensils or nothing at all- and then hand them to Sammy so the boy could feed himself. Except Dean had spaced out for a minute while thinking about where their dad had gone off to a little more than a week ago, and had not cut any more pieces in his daze, and so Sammy became frustrated and had to make his displeasure known, as all babies did.

With a grunt, he ordered, "Mor' 'nanan, Dada!" rather loudly, shocking Dean out of his daze.

His first reaction was to wake up from his daze and scold Sammy, and he did this with a quick, "No screaming, Sammy!" And then as Sammy's chin began to wobble from being scolded, Dean registered what his baby brother had just said. He cocked his head in confusion as he tried to process it. And then Sammy's waterworks began with a cry of, "Dada!"

Dean's confusion gave way to his big brother mode and he stood up from the chair by the table, puttting Sammy on his shoulder as he shushed him.

"Shh, it's okay, Sammy Boy. You just scared Dada." Dean paused. He had meant to say, "You just scared _me_," but the word had just slipped out. Dean was shocked to realize how natural it felt to say it in relation to himself. After thinking it over for a moment, Dean made a decision, "Okay, Sammy, you can all me Dada, but only when we're alone, you got that, Kiddo?"

Dean knew that Sammy's gurgles of content now that Dean had resumed feeding him were a sign of understanding from his baby brother.


	2. Potty Training

When Sammy turned two, Dean decided now was the right time to potty train him. So one day when their Dad was gone on a long hunt, he took Sammy by the hand and gently coaxed him into the almost too-small motel bathroom, keeping his voice soft and soothing. Sam had developed a fear of the toilet at one-and-a-half for a reason Dean still did not understand. He supposed it was some sort of toddler thing, but had decided to roll with the punches and help Sammy over his fear and get him potty trained. The plans all changed when Sammy realized where they were going.

He began to sob and scream like a Banshee, which Dean had seen in their dad's journal.

"Hey, hey, Sammy. It's okay. There's nothin' to be afraid of-" Dean held his little brother close and rubbed his back as they neared the toilet.

"No, Daddy! Pwease! Momster!" he howled in his big brother's ear.

"Monster? There's no-" he paused. Their dad had been honest with him about what he did for as long as he could remember, and taught him about salt and a few of his knives, and had said that as long as it was to protect Sammy and himself and used for nothing else, there was a knife, rock salt, and a bottle of holy water in the high cupboard above the counter in the kitchen, "Are you sure you don't haveta potty right now?" Sammy nodded, thumb in his mouth. Any other time, Dean would have scolded him and given him his "sucky" as he called it, but now he had other things to worry about.

With that in mind, he plopped Sammy down on the floor outside the bathroom, "Stay here, okay? Stay right there and I promise I will get you a treat after, okay? Good boy. I'll keep you safe, I promise," by this time, Dean had found the rock salt that was in the kitchen and had made a salt circle around Sammy, "Stay here. Good boy," with that, Dean disappeared into the small bathroom and shut the door so as not to scare Sammy.

With that done, Dean turned toward the evil toilet, going up to it bravely. With a quick motion of his wrist, he threw in the rock salt, watching as it sunk to the bottom of the toilet bowl. When nothing happened, he let a few drops of holy water fall into the stained water. When still nothing happened, Dean gave a great sigh of relief, opening the bathroom door to find Sammy sitting dutifully inside the salt circle, his thumb in his mouth and his eyes starry with unshed tears.

"All safe, Bud. Didn't Daddy promise to keep you safe? Come 'ere," as Dean hoisted Sammy onto his hip and began to walk back into the bathroom, Sammy tried to struggle, "What's buggin' you, Bud? Can you tell me?"

"Pee-pee fall in toi'et!"

"Pee-pee's supposed to go into the toilet, Bud," Dean started to explain after silently processing what his baby brother had just said, "It's waste. Our bodies don't need it anymore, so it has to get rid of it. You'll get sick if it stays in your body," Dean patiently explained, remembering what their dad had told him when he had had the same thoughts.

"Why?" Sam tilted his head to the side in innocent confusion.

Dean pondered this a moment, "I don't know, Bud, but I promise to keep you safe no matter what. Okay?"

Sammy nodded before smiling and deciding he was ready to use the potty for the first time.


End file.
